


The Human Files

by PenNameArtist



Category: Planes (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universes, Drabbles, Gen, Humanised, M/M, Movie Rewrites, probably gonna get covered by smut eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25928287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenNameArtist/pseuds/PenNameArtist
Summary: I am keeping all my HUMANISED Planes works separate from my other stuff in this folder. If you can stand the peopleifying, there's more content here to explore, most of which simply cannot be done through Plane forms.Same as Props to the Proppies, short drabbles and snippets, and also rewrites from the film with my own artsy twist!Enjoy!
Comments: 19
Kudos: 21





	1. To Fall [PG - Dusty]

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: _A humanized, headcanonized and slightly artisticalized version of a scene from the original Planes: Fire and Rescue. Dusty doesn’t know what he’s in for…_
> 
> Rated PG

It felt as fresh and new as the first time they had gone out flying together. They both taxied to the runways, made their announcements to the tower, and ran through their system checks like they were second nature. All too perfect a morning for a good training session.  
The sun was high but not noon high yet, clouds were fluffy and low to the horizon, and the wind was on their side as they took off, the younger pulling into the air first while the veteran flier trailed behind him. Throttle slowly brought forward, the young male’s well-built aircraft climbed further into the atmosphere, effortlessly gliding across the air as the world descended below. The bright orange of the hood of his plane gleamed off the sunlight, like glittering gold in the landscapes of blue and green.  
He could hear the louder, more rumbly roar of the Corsair’s engine behind him, tailing him from below and to his flank as they circled the tiny town of Propwash once, twice, and finally straightened out, heading to the fields.  
They quickly descended to the old silos, their training course over the last three years now. It was aged but well-loved and well-used, and the racing pilot positioned himself to maneuver through them with a well-trained ease.  
“Step into those turns!” He heard his coach in the other plane radio to him, thinly cracked by static but clear all the same. He knew he didn’t really have to coach him at this point, but it was in his nature, as it was in Dusty’s to listen and take note of his words. He pulled himself into more than a turn, less than a roll, almost completely upside down as the hay bale made into a plane structure whisked across his window and out of his sight. It didn’t stay in his mind though, as he turned hard in the opposite direction to do the exact same thing to the next one, and the one after that.  
“Tighten it up! There ya’ go!” While there was rarely ever a mistake in Dusty’s training performances, it never hurt to want more than perfection out of a session. Too overconfident or cocky about his skills, and he might just start getting lazy.  
The two cut past the silos and towards the river, where it began to bend around, headed to the overhead train bridge. Dusty had no problems rushing close to the surface of the river here - he’d long since conquered his water-phobia from the Wings Around the Globe rally. Pulling up from under the narrow bridge may have been a bit riskier, but he’d flown through smaller spaces before, again from his time in the WATG.  
“Now let’s work that vertical!” His mentor commented. With a confident, yet pleasingly pure smile, the reigning champion of air racing throttled straight up as high as he could go without stalling his engine, being pushed back into his seat as he climbed. It was a great feeling, having this power at your fingertips and being skilled enough to know how to utilize it to the best of your capabilities, like you’re one with its purpose. You’re really flying.

Until suddenly the world drifts away from you, and you’re falling.

He didn’t lose altitude. He didn’t drop from the sky at all, at least not intentionally, or that he knew of. But as soon as he’d reached the clouds, something changed. A high-pitched whine started to emerge from all sides, dark corners blurring up his vision, and his limbs suddenly felt stiff and unable to control. He could see, but he couldn't focus, could breathe but couldn't think. And everything was getting..bleaker….still…  
" _Dusty_!" The loud pop of static over the radio could at least break his spiral, giving him just a little bit of control back. He fought his own hands, shaking uncontrollably as he pushed down over the radio to answer. He didn't, though; what came out was more like jagged gasping and half-uttered syllables he couldn't physically form into words. He felt terrified and strangely calm at the same time - like having an out of body experience. Lights flickered in front of him, he was losing his grip, and then…

It just stopped. As soon as it had started, the young racer came back out of his episode, all functions returning to him, though they were all very sore. Like second instinct, he gripped the throttle again to pull back into a neutral-ish leveling of the plane. He had no idea how far he tipped back or how much altitude he'd lost, and he still felt too winded to try to remember where those gauges were.  
"Dusty, you okay!?" His mentor shouted, on the verge of panic, and rightfully so.  
"I...I dunno.." Dusty replied, "I...I gotta land.." He suddenly had to correct himself from veering off again, head pounding as he fought just to stay focused enough to get back on the ground in one piece.  
He could hear Skipper radioing the tower for an emergency landing, leaving room for the younger to descend to land on the runway first. His landing was much sloppier than it should've been, but given his current state of shock, it was a trivial matter.  
As soon as the redhead stumbled back out of his aircraft, Skipper was in front of him in a second.  
"Are you okay? What happened?"  
Dusty shook his head, "I don't know...I was fine and then..I just couldn't…couldn't really move."  
"Did you pass out?" His mentor asked him, a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady as they started heading to Dottie's office.  
"I don't… _think_ so? It was weird…" he told him, "I've never...felt like that before."

It was a first, but unfortunately, not a last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dusty, in the humanized world, suffers not from a broken gearbox, but from this lil' thing called _epilepsy_...  
> Stay tuned.


	2. The Scarlet Moment [T/M - Blade/Nick]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, steamy drabble whilst I am pulling together my weapons for this year’s NaNoWriMo challenge. And yes, that is partly why I have been absent from posting to my AO3. There’s other personal reasons but I won’t get into them here. Anyways, enjoy a humanized Blade/Nick foreplay scene I made but couldn’t fit into anything.
> 
> Oh, and be on the lookout, because hopefully my next Human Files (and maybe even my next few Props To The Proppies short) story will be on Dusty’s future spouse… *non-subtle winking*
> 
> Rated T/M (technically safe, but heavy-ass innuendo)

By the time that Nick pulled himself off of his partner's mouth, his face was hot, cheeks flushed as that same heat spread to the rest of his body. Blade penned him up where he stood, arms on the walls to either side of him; there was no escaping now (not that he thought Nick would want to any time soon).

He leaned over his boyfriend, kissing him again on his soft lips and moving to peck his nose, his forehead, and the top of his hair, where his curls went everywhere. His hands went through those fluffy locks, too - he couldn't help himself from the messy head of hair, and from subconsciously untangling it.

Nick cupped the older males face in his hands, bringing his attention back down to his eyes. He was kissed again, more feverishly, desperately, clinging to him, _claiming_ him. Nick belonged to him, and likewise, Blade belonged to Nick. But of course, they each had to 'remind' one another of that fact.

Blade filled in the already small space between their bodies further, until they weren't but a couple inches apart. Nick smiled giddily, giggling as Blade inched closer, face smiling darkly as it fastened itself to its new prey. His hands slipped down to his thighs, gripping him firmly but lovingly.

"A lot to grip down here..." He whispered, as Nick's face went flush and dark. He ran his hands up further, stopping to squeeze him again and elicit a soft gasp. Finally, a few teasing rubs later, he slipped his hands up and around his ass to pull him into his body.

"Uhh..!" Nick's eyes fluttered as he pushed his crotch against his partners, chewing on his lip as his body threatened to break out in fever. Blade held onto him quietly, softly, rubbing and caressing and loving his body without needing to fuck him. Not to say they wouldn't _later_ , but they wouldn't for now. He was more content to indulge in him, teasing him and making him melt under such soft treatment.

He needn't do much more than let his fingertips graze across the edge of his spine; that was all it took for him to arch inward like some feline, curled to match Blade's embrace. Nick had a way of being surprisingly agile and flexible, which he certainly used to his advantage with his much taller partner. Blade just liked feeling their whole bodies so close together - especially when Nick was in his mood. He was like a heated blanket on a winter night.

"Where do you wanna take this?" Blade breathed against him. He didn't mind either way, but he had to know before he made a bold move. Nick squeaked, wiggling in his grasp.

"Just have me however you want me." He said, as he pressed into him. Blade smiled warmly, moving from his ear to his face, softly pressing their foreheads together.

He easily picked the younger up off the floor, wrapping his legs around his hips and holding him up by his rear, carrying him the short walk to bed. He laid him down gently, getting up on top of him not to squish him, but to lean down for another healthy, addictively good amount of kisses. By the time he gave him a second to breathe, he was gasping for air.

"Hm..you're freaking cute." Blade said.

"No you!" The younger argued, to which Blade couldn't help but smile and shake his head.

"What's 'cute' to you?" He asked, though he didn't sound curious. He sounded more along the lines of trying to disprove his claim.

Nick shuffled under him, thinking,

"Well your smile's really cute, especially when it's a little crooked.."

"You're crooked!" The older male teased. Between giggles, Nick also managed to get out, "And...you look cute when you start wringing your jacket.."

"You find that cute??" He asked, dumbfounded, "that's more like a nervous wreck signal, that's a coping mechanism for anxiety!"

"But you do it so much!" Nick said, "you're always twisting and tugging and wringing the edge of your jacket. And I think it's cute, because it's...I don't know, it's dorky!"

"You're so weird."

"But you think I'm cute too!" Nick chirped, "so what makes you think that about _me_ then, hm?"

"Your damn freckles." Blade said, without missing a beat. Nick quirked a brow in confusion.

"I don't really have.."

"You have some." Blade said, "they're just spaced out. You got one here-" -and he pointed to the skin over his left collar bone, where indeed there was a dark freckle over it - "-a few on each arm, some down your torso...and they're damn cute."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"And you call _me_ weird!" Nick laughed. He reached up to grip his boyfriend's shirt and pull him down closer, kissing him again deeply. But Blade pulled away,

"I wasn't done listing off reasons."

"You have a _list_???"

"Mhm." He tilted Nick's chin up to study his face, "I'd say your eyes make for second. Hair third. Mm...no, dimples third, hair fourth."

"You'd take the damn dimples over the bird's nest?"

"Yes, because dimples don't tangle or end up in my face at two in the morning while I'm trying to sleep."

"Mm..fair enough."

"And everything else fifth."

"Everything?"

" _everything._ " Blade said, snuggling down again into Nick's body, so close to each other's faces they could feel their exhales. Before either of them knew what they were doing, Nick was clung to Blade's body, arms and legs wrapped around him as he half layed and half leaned over him, and his shirt was already being rolled up to his sleeves.

Blade only glanced at the time, for the sake of knowing, before focusing his attention back to his charge.

"You get an hour."

"Aw that's no time at all!" Nick whined.

"I don't wanna be up until four in the morning."

"But an _hour_? You know I won't tire at less than _two_..."

"Well maybe I'll just have to tire you extra quick tonight." Blade told him. He took Nick's hands in his as he stood over him, their fingers interlaced, and he pulled them apart until he had them stretched to their ends.  
"Maybe I'll just keep you from recovering so fast…"  
As his arms were outstretched as far as they could be to either side of him, Nick started caving under the mounting pressure of being pulled in such a way while the inflictor was slowly beginning to crush him. It carried with it a sense of being dominated that set his nerves ablaze with desire.

At the same time, he didn't feel like being rushed.

"Mm...m! No, I'm gonna...dammit, I'm gonna get to you first tonight!" He argued, struggling against his partner, "Mmph! Let...me… _up,_ dang it!"

"Mm...nope." Blade smiled, pushing further into Nick. He couldn't help but chuckle at the way the younger male flustered as his request was denied, and the way he tried to just weasel his way out from his grip.

"Hng… _mmph_! Blade c'mo-oon!" He whined.

"I didn't say you could go anywhere," Blade said, calm and collected, "Mm..you just stay there and let _me_ take care of you…"

"Mm…" Nick only squirmed under him for a moment longer, before deciding to let his partner take over.

"Hh...a-ahh~…!" He couldn't keep himself silent - or still - as Blade started working his way down his front, kissing his neck, biting ever so gently. But Blade knew he was growing impatient.

Still...he liked watching him _struggle_.

But of course, some nights the younger didn't like behaving. When Blade moved down to peck at his torso, Nick stole the opportunity he had, where his grip over his arms was weakest, and he managed to wiggle his way up and out from under his lover's tight grasp. Blade wasn't too far behind his movements, arms going down to lock around his hips as Nick tried to scoot back and away.

It was like prying a predator from the carcass of its freshly-caught prey, the way Nick had to tug against Blade's death grip over his thighs. But the older wouldn't budge, looking up at him with devilish delight as a hand whipped back to grab at the waistline of his jeans. Nick's further slithering to try to get out of his reach only aided him in slipping the coarse fabric off, until it was past his knees, and he had then run out of mattress to retreat to. Without legs to thrash with, should he scoot any further back, he'd half-fall off the bed and then Blade would have his legs. And everything else - which, right now, isn't Nick's plan.

The way Blade locked eyes with him then was beyond laser-focused. He looked like a cat high on catnip, stalking Nick as he crawled back up over his body, hands reaching for whatever bare part of his boy he could get. Their lips met again in the midst of their more than steaming battle, and it seemed the younger finally relented, relaxing under Blade's grip and allowing him to do what he wished.

"Don't worry," Blade told him, pecking his partner's lips once more, before running a hand down his own body to his crotch, briefly touching himself and making _sure_ Nick knew _exactly_ what he meant when he added,

"I've _got you_ tonight."


	3. Fever Dreams [G - Dusty/Oscar]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUPER short Dusty/Oscar drabble. I’m struggling to write consistently right now so this is all I’ve got for y’all.  
> G rated whumpfic

"Os..." The quiet voice cracked, barely able to rouse their partner from sleep. Oscar creaked an eye open, turning his head to find Dusty curled up at his sleeve, face pale even in the dark room. It was so late it was early.

"I-I don't...feel so good..."

Even half-asleep, the statement immediately urged the larger male to turn and assess the situation. Bringing him close, he could easily feel the unnatural heat off of Dusty's body, though he was shivering under the blankets; he'd contracted fever overnight. He clung onto Oscar’s body, legs curled up and pressing into his torso.

“Well it’s no wonder,” Os croaked, still drowsy with sleep, “your forehead’s burning.”

“Figured as much…” Dusty said. “I was...was fine going to bed…” He shifted to lay his head against his boyfriend’s chest, his skull feeling tight and heavy.

"Let me see if I can find the Tylenol.." Oscar told him, barely awake but rolling out of bed just to go on a hunt for medicine. Dusty already tried to stop him, thinking he could get it himself, but he couldn't will himself out from under the covers. He just felt so... _weak_. Weak, and sick. Without the heat of a second body, Dusty curled into the leftover space he’d since resided, his energy feeling sapped from his being.

Oscar returned with pills and a cup of water, urging the redhead to at least sit up to take it. He still had blankets clutched tightly in his fist, though. Even after he'd taken everything, he curled back up under the comforters, just trembling.

Oscar could only hold him and hope his fever broke soon. He'd double checked him with a thermometer, and it was _high_. It was no wonder he was up at 2 AM, feeling completely miserable. He'd seen him down with a few colds before, but never something so sudden. It was all he could do now just to keep him close, offering him warmth enough to make it until the next dose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need prompts. Someone give me prompts. What do y'all want to see?


	4. Remnants [PG - Dusty]

"Do I _have_ to?" Dusty asked, trying to make it not sound like a whine - and failing at it.

"So long as you're working on this base, _yes_ ," Maru told him, with his head in the ventilation tunnels, pointing a flashlight down the main vent's metal corridor, "besides that, you're an able-bodied hot shot, _and_ you're the new guy. Either way, you don't have much of a choice." He pulled his head out from the open vent, clicking the flashlight off and tossing it to Dusty.

"Every few years we gotta go through these bitches and make sure they get cleaned. I might live like chaos, but I won't tolerate rodents, not in my shop!!"

Dusty shuddered at the thought he might run into a rat in there. Especially considering how… _cramped_ it was…

But he sucked in a breath and shook off his fear. He was no damn baby, he could carry his own weight now, and the team expected every ounce of strength he had. He suited himself up - a belt with some cleaning rags and a couple screwdrivers to undo vent panels inside, and his flashlight handy - and made the ever tricky attempt of wedging himself into the vent system.

The second he realized he had only inches between each shoulder and the vent walls, he was in a panic. He couldn't even raise himself high enough to walk on his hands and knees; he would have to army-crawl the whole way down.

"How far am I going?" He asked, his voice echoing back to him in the tunnel.

"Just to the split," Maru told him, "so long as there's no evidence of animal residency to that point, we should be just fine."

Dusty sucked in another shaky breath, anxiety rolling across his chest like a cold ocean wave. There and back, there and back. _You can do this._

So he started crawling.

With every shift of his limbs, the floor under him buckled from the weight, metal snapping back and sending the boy into a frightful panic. But he bit his tongue and held his ground; no, _no_ I can- I can _do this!_ I'm not...I'm not...scared...of…

A shadow that wasn't his own moved against an open vent panel, and he shot up in recoil, hitting the ceiling and pushing his back flush against it. His heart was pounding, and his yelp was still echoing down the hallways of death. At the entrance a ways behind him, he could hear Maru's call of concern.

"Dusty!? What happened!?"

He broke then.

" _I can't do this!!_ " he yelled back, fighting tears. His mind was racing a million miles a second. He needed to get out, get out, get out, I need to turn around, I can't turn around, no, no _fuck, theres no way OUT!_

His heart was sitting in his throat, adrenaline flooding his veins at the wild need to get out of this too tight, too cramped, too suffocating space. As he scrambled backwards however, his shirt was slid up against the top panels, and his skin met a couple of bolts lodged in the segment of metal, sending shocks of pain into his body.

Instinct flooding his veins, he dropped to the ground, body curled tightly inwards (or, as tight as it could while his legs couldn't be folded up to his chest) and proceeded to do the only thing his brain knew how to do in this situation: let itself panic.

Somewhere between hyperventilation, tears, and the void of insanity, Dusty recognized a hand having grabbed onto his ankle, pulling him backwards. He moved his arms from his face enough to look back at his assailant, and the worst of his fears began to subside as he met Blade's gaze.

Well, not all of his fear, but a majority.

Blade at least gave him something else to focus on as he scrambled backwards to the initial vent opening. As soon as his eyes met the fluorescent lighting of the inside of Maru's shop, he all but collapsed into Blades arms, exhausted, shaken, coming out of a fear beyond all belief. Blade didn't force him off, didn't even make a sound of recoil as the boy's head buried itself into his shoulder.

"Damn.." He heard Maru utter, "I completely forgot about that…" Blade didn't catch everything after that, but it sounded along the lines of a string of mumbled self-criticism.

"Don't beat yourself up over it too much," he told him, Dusty still breathing heavily against his firesuit, "you hadn't really known." Maru scoffed in only partial agreement.

"I'm gonna see if Drip is anywhere around, then.." He added, stuffing his fists into his pockets as he walked off. Blade sighed; he would have to console him, too, at some point.

The remnants of trauma run deep as the canyons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vote for part two??


End file.
